“No, sir. Nothing to report on at all.”
Sawyer stoodbeside Ciaran as he, Kellan, and Fray finished talking outside Fray’s place. The meeting had basically been over when Ciaran had begun rubbing his chest, too, saying he was fine, until he wasn’t.
Until he had to find Sawyer.
It was weird, this having to be near each other. Kellan said it would subside in time, and while Sawyer hoped it would, he also kinda hoped it wouldn’t.
And as they stood there, Ciaran and Kellan and Fray murmuring about whatever the hell Tobin’s problem was, Sawyer found himself looking at the water. Just off the jetty, the dark water sparkled like the night sky and moved the way water shouldn’t.
Not swirling, exactly, but moving... as if it were alive. Breathing.
Beckoning.
Calling to him.
Not his name. Not anything he could hear. But he could feel it.
He went for a closer look to see if he could find anything, see anything at all.
Ciaran was just a few metres away, and he was busy talking about consortium matters, andoh my god, the water was so beautiful.
The grey skies overhead couldn’t have reflected that much light, yet the water was glinting like diamonds, pulsing, calling.
He felt it in his bones. No... he felt it in his blood.
He needed to get closer.
He needed to be submerged in it, far beneath the surface. He needed to feel the weight of the water all around him, holding him.
He needed to drown in it.
He couldn’t hear Ciaran calling out to him. He couldn’t hear anything at all.
Just the old god at the bottom of the Cove speaking to his bones, to his soul.
And then he answered the call. Not even shocked by the freezing cold water, not shocked at all.
It was so pretty down there in the deep. He longed to go deeper, to sink to the bottom.
And then green tentacles were around him, hauling him so hard up to the surface, his lungs lost all air, and he instinctively inhaled. His lungs filled with water, and the surface wasn’t coming quick enough.
But he wasn’t worried. He wasn’t panicked.
He looked, then, at the green octopus who was holding him, and he knew, he knew from the green eyes who it was. And the scowl, and the annoyed look on his octopus face.
It was Tobin.
Sawyer smiled at him just as red tentacles came around him, firm and strong, hauling him onto the pier. He knew these arms. He loved these arms.
But not the look of sheer panic on his face or the distressed copper eyes. Ciaran was saying something, but his voice sounded so far away. Sawyer tried to say hi. He tried to smile and tell him he was fine. He needed to tell him what he’d heard.
But he was cold now, and with all the coughing and teeth chattering, it was hard to speak. He wanted to sleep, and he could barely keep his eyes open. His ears were ringing, and he only caught the end of Ciaran’s frantic tirade.
“... hell were you thinking?”
He laughed and coughed and did his best to speak before sleep claimed him. “I heard her. She called to me.”
“Who?” Ciaran asked, eyes wide. His hand was warm on Sawyer’s face as he gave him a gentle shake. “Sawyer, stay with me. Who called to you?”
